“What, I can’t just call you?” I asked, my voice a bit snappier than normal.
I heard him sigh. Then a door opened and closed, and there was a telltale sound of a creaking chair as he sat down. “Talk to me.”
It wasn’t a request. I sighed as if I was some delayed echo.
“This thing with Jenn has gotten to me more than I thought it would,” I found myself saying.
I’d called Wren after we knew she was going to surgery, and then I’d kept him up to date every step of the way after. Wren was the type to listen to the doctors and he’d been pretty relaxed about the whole thing, especially after he’d talked with Emery, too.
Wren hummed. “She’s a bit magical, isn’t she?”
“They both are.” JennandMike. “I’m not…. It’s weird.”
He chuckled, low and raspy in the way that told me he’d been recording songs for days, take after take after take until he washappy with the final result. “You know I understand that more than most.”
I did understand. Wren’s parents had been mentally absent at best, neglectful at worst. Mine… well, mine had been abusive either directly or indirectly.
“Mom wants me to go help her with shit.”
“You’re not going.” The words didn’t come out harsh, but they were quick, filled with conviction and love.
My eyes brimmed with tears in a way that made me very happy to see the cabins. I’d speed-walked there and hadn’t even been paying attention.
“You’re not going, Ville. That woman doesn’t deserve you.”
A lump formed in my throat. It wasn’t the first time Wren had told me this, but I guess I needed to hear them again just to get an emotional whiplash today, goddammit. I entered my cabin and kicked off my shoes, then walked straight to the back and sat on the bed.
He listened to me gather myself, staying quiet whenever he wasn’t humming a tune under his breath. They were new melodies, which was what got me out of my funk—for the most part anyway—in a few more minutes.
“I’ll call Janne,” I told him.
“Good. As you should.” Then, because my best friend knew me too fucking well, he asked, “Now what else is this mood about?”
I sighed, then got off the bed to go blow my nose while he listened and protested, laughing a little.
I went to sit on the couch next, trying not to be a total sad sack. “Carter hired someone who just showed up today. Nobody told me about the guy.”
Wren hissed. “That’s kind of shitty, but I do see both sides.”
I snorted. “I almost decked Bodhi.”
He groaned. “Ville….”
“No, I know. I’m trying to be good, but we don’t get along, and I don’t care about him enough to actively try to change that.” I immediately knew I’d said the wrong thing when Wren went completely silent. “Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like that. Of course I care.” Not about Bodhi, we both knew that was true, but I cared deeply about Wren which should’ve been enough for me to at least try harder to be civil with Bodhi.
“Okay.” He was hurt, and while I knew not all of that hurt came from me—a lot of it was due to Bodhi—it made me feel like shit.
“I’ll try harder. I promise.”
“I got to go; I have Merle in the studio today.” Merle was one of the best country music producers and it had been Wren’s dream to work with her.
The fact that he had answered my call told me how important I was to him.
“Wren, I’m sorry—”
“No.” The tone was his serious one that brooked no argument. “Call your cousin.”
Then he ended the call before I had time to say anything more.
